Page 25 of The Devil's Pawn

“No need.” I skirt past her, ignoring her inane mumblings, and beeline for the living room, but as I enter, I draw to a halt. Imogen is standing by the farthest window, examining the pieces on a chessboard. The sun has come out, and it’s shining directly on her stunning red hair. Except itisn’t only red, it’s gold, copper, and caramel. She looks so lost as she replaces the knight and picks up the queen, a sadness to the slope of her shoulders and her downturned features.

A bite of guilt takes root in my stomach, but I quash it. This is for the best. She will thank me in the end when she’s free to live the life she wishes rather than the one being forced upon her.

“Do you play?”

The question startles me as well as her. I’d fully intended to back away before she saw me.

She drops the queen, instantly crouching to pick it up. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

I make my way over to her. “Do you want to play with me, Little Pawn?” I’m unsure if I’m talking about chess or sex. From the way my groin heats as I run my gaze over her and breathe in the scent of bergamot and rose, it’s the latter. Absence has only stoked the fires I’m trying my best to stamp out.

“Where did you go yesterday?”

Ah, so she knows I went somewhere. That she’s keeping tabs on my whereabouts is oddly thrilling.

“I wasn’t aware I had to report my movements to you.”

“You don’t. But let me be clear, that means I don’t have to report mine to you, either.”

Oh, yes, you do.

I peel the queen from her fingers and replace it on the board. I’m not a fan of people touching my stuff, and this chess board was one I purchased from a local craftsman some years ago. Oddly, though, that’s not the reason I took it from her. A sudden urge to touch her, however briefly, was what motivated me, yet the arc of electricity that fired between us sent a warning Ishould heed.

Almost as if I’m testing myself, I lean in and breathe deeply once again. A flush of heat runs through me, so sudden and violent, I have to force myself not to shudder with the pleasure the mere scent of her gives me.

She’s a rush, that’s for sure.

“I had a meeting in London.” Telling her this comes as much of a surprise to me as it does to her, if her incredulous and dazed expression is anything to go by.

“Oh. I see.”

She bites her lip and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She’s uncomfortable, and while I’m not usually one to relieve anyone’s discomfort, including hers, I’m mildly intrigued how she’s spent her time in my absence.

“What have you been doing?”

Her eyes momentarily flare wide, then her brows dip and she shrugs. “Gone for walks, read a bit, explored the house.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “It’s an incredible property, so steeped in history.”

“It is.”

“It’s quiet, though. A little too quiet,” she adds under her breath. Further evidence that isolating her from social interaction is the quickest way to get what I want.

Despite that, I point to one of two chairs set on either side of the chess board. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I can’t play.” She sits down anyway, despite her admission.

“I’ll teach you.” The words are out before I can stop them. These days, I don’t get to play often. None of my siblings are fond of the game, and Dad is usually too busy, considering our games sometimes last for hours. That’s the only reason I offered to teach her how to play.

I run through the basic rules, keeping the details assimple as I can for her first game, starting with the queen and king, then working my way through the rest of the pieces. She listens intently, asking the occasional question here and there. Her keenness to learn the game is unexpected, and I find myself smiling as I pick up a pawn and hold it out to her.

“Pawns are the main defenders. They look ineffective, but they hold a lot of power.” I pause, wondering if she recognizes the correlation between her and this carved piece of glass in my hand. She has more power than she thinks. I hope she never realizes that.

She nods sagely and motions for me to continue.

“Passed pawns force your opponent into using a more powerful piece to stop their relentless onward march. But pawns have weaknesses, too. The second they move forward, they’re exposed.” I let my gaze linger on her face, waiting until she meets my eyes. “But they have to move forward, because there is no going back. They must embrace their weaknesses in order to protect what matters to them.”

After a few seconds, she pulls her gaze away from mine and studies the board.

Leaning back, I raise both eyebrows. “Ready to play, Little Pawn?”

---